7 Years
by aaliahpearsall26
Summary: A quick one-shot, song fic about Eric Cartman's life, from where he started, to where he is now.
**A/N: 7 Years by Lukas Graham**

 _ **Once I was seven years old, my mama told me**_

 _ **Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely.**_

 _ **Once I was seven years old.**_

 _"Come on Eric!" a small boy called to another. He wore all orange, his hair blonde, his eyes blue. Nothing but a colossal smile one his face to his shy new friend. He bound down the steps in excitement, stopping at the end of the walkway, waiting patiently._

 _The other boy, clutched his blanket and a stuffed frog to his chest, hiding behind his mother's satin dress. The only thing keeping him safe from this new place. His mother being his only security. The chubby, brown haired and eyed boy gazed up at his mother for a moment, unsure if he should follow this new boy's advice. After all, this was a new town. Same state, but it wasn't Denver._

 _"Eric honey, the only way you're going to get used to this place to make some friends," his sweet mother cooed to him as she crouched to his level, gently taking the blanket from him. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here when you come back, okay?"_

 _Eric shrugged, his head down, gently dragging his small sneakered foot bashfully._

 _His mother smiled at that. "How about you take Clyde Frog. He'll keep you safe." she offered, and Eric's smile softly grew._

 _She grinned and tucked his brown bangs away from his eyes, tipping his head up to kiss his soft forehead. "Now go, you don't want to keep him waiting..."_

 _Eric gently walked down the walkway, to his new friend, looking back at his mother. He waved until he lost sight of the house. As he talked with the boy, he later found out his name was Kenny._

 _He misses him._

Eric sat in his dark aparment, the shades drawn, the gentle light of the sun, the hope of brightness within it, now being hidden, distrusted by the makeshift curtain over his single window. Head in his hands, a gun at his feet. Soft tears dripped down his face, unto his untied black sneakers.

Another bad night, it was always this way. He looked over to a photo of his laptop background, a picture of his best friend, both intoxicated, and wide, alcoholic grins on their faces. He slowly stood up to get a better look. That was the best and worst night of his life.

 _ **It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger.**_

 _ **Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker.**_

 _ **By eleven smoking herb and drinking burning liquor**_

 _ **Never rich so we were out to make that steady figure**_

 _The boys stumbled in and out of the bar one late night, and wobbled to the cab. Kenny had taken some kind of drug earlier, and had been complaining of pain ever since. Eric called the cab and assisted the boy into the car._

 _He never should have pressured him into taking it._

 _He waved off to a drowsy Kenny, shutting the door and watched him stroll off. And just as quick as he sent him off, Kenny would die the next day. Overdose._

 _It was all his fault. He was determined that he would never influence himself into drugs or alcohol again._

Eric slammed the laptop shut, biting his lip as more tears fell. He took another swig of the liquor bottle on the dresser, and took it with him back to the bed. He laid back down, sitting on the edge of the bed also, and closed his eyes.

 _He's sorry._

 _"Mom," Eric asked. "How come you and Dad separated in the first place?"_

 _Liane sighed softly and looked up at her son. "Sometimes things don't work out between moms and dads honey. I loved him, but he didn't love me." she shrugs gently._

 _Eric frowns. "Do you think he loved me?"_

 _Liane nods, smiling sadly. "Of course he did! He may not have shown it while he was here, but deep down, he knew about you. And he loved you very much. He told me when you we're born."_

 _Eric smiled gently to himself, pausing to take a bite. "Mom?"_

 _"Yes honey?"_

 _"Will someone ever love me?" he asked._

 _She grinned and gently held his hand. "Yes honey. Including me."_

 _ **Once I was eleven years old, my daddy told me**_

 _ **Go get yourself a wife or you'll be lonely.**_

 _ **Once I was eleven years old.**_

Eric hiccuped and looked down at his phone. Patty Nelson, his finance, still up on his background. He looked at her shirts still in the closet from when she left. He hiccuped, finishing off the alcohol, and looked at the bottle label. He needed her warmth, not the warmth of a buzz.

But he chose this over her, he must remember. Now she was gone.

 _"Get out of m-my house!' Eric barked, slurring the sentence as the through the liquor bottle at her head._

 _"Your house! Eric listen to me! You're drunk and unstable, and you're scaring me! We bought this house together by the way. Now you need to either go lie down, or go somewhere else, because I'm not leaving, and I don't want you to hurt yourself..." she said softly, frowning as she touched his arm. He grabbed her arm, and flung her into the wall._

 _"You better leave! I don't need you!" he slurred, as she watched him stumble to the stairs._

 _"Are you sure Eric..." she said sadly, slipping her shoes on._

 _He grunts and goes upstairs. And with that. She was gone._

 _ **I always had that dream like my daddy before me**_

 _ **So I started writing songs, I started writing stories**_

 _ **Something about the glory, just always seemed to bore me**_

 _ **Cause only those I really love will ever really know me**_

'Who even loves me?' he thought to himself, gently letting the gun dance in his fingertips. The only people that we're there for me are gone.

 _ **Once I was twenty years old, my story got told**_

 _ **Before the morning sun, when life was lonely.**_

"I'm always lonely."

 _ **Once I was twenty years old.**_

 _ **I only see my goals, I don't believe in failure.**_

"I'm a failure." he says sadly, taking the gun off safety mode. "I knew I was never good enough..."

 _ **Cause I know the smallest voices, they can make it major.**_

"I've known this since I was young..."

 _ **I got my boys with me atleast those in favor**_

 _ **And if we don't meet before I leave, I hope I'll see you later.**_

"They we're never there for me..." he cries, going into the bathroom.

 _ **Once I was 20 years old, my story got told**_

 _ **I was writing about everything, I saw before me**_

 _ **Once I was 20 years old.**_

 _ **Soon we'll be 30 years old, our songs have been sold**_

 _ **We've traveled around the world and we're still roaming.**_

 _ **Soon we'll be 30 years old.**_

'What's the point of living?' he thought to himself, 'As I get older, everything is just gonna get worse, and I'm going to be miserable...'

 _ **I'm still learning about life**_

 _ **My woman brought children for me**_

He never had any kids.

 _ **So I can sing them all my songs**_

 _ **And I can tell them stories**_

 _ **most of my boys are with me**_

He never got to be the change. A good dad, a husband, a friend.

 _ **Some are still out seeking glory**_

 _ **And some I had to leave behind**_

All he left behind were lost memories and broken promises.

 _ **My brother I'm still sorry**_

He never got another chance to talk to Scott. He's sorry. He's always been sorry.

 _ **Soon I'll be 60 years old, my daddy got 61**_

Eric Cartman sat on his bathroom floor, what would it have been if he stayed.

 _ **Remember life and then your life becomes a better one**_

 _ **I made the man so happy when I wrote a letter once**_

 _ **I hope my children come and visit, once or twice a month**_

Liane Cartman thought about her son. She smiled and went to the phone, dialing the number.

 _ **Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold**_

 _ **Or will I have a lot of children who can bore me**_

She hadn't seen him in a couple months. His depression worried her. The phone began to ring. He'd never reach the phone.

 _ **Soon I'll be 60 years old**_

 _ **Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold**_

 _ **Or will I have a lot of children who can bore me**_

 _ **Soon I'll be 60 years old**_

The phone call was never reached. He had left his cell on the table. He put the gun in his mouth, shaking softly.

The sound of a trigger echoed throughout the home. It alerted the neighbors. Eric Cartman was found dead an hour later. He always knew he will be missed.

 _ **Once I was seven years old, my mama told me**_

 _ **Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely**_

 _ **Once I was seven years old**_

 _ **Once I was seven years old**_


End file.
